#WELL THAT'S A DIFFERENT STORY ARE YOU KIDDING ME

[alexagirlie]

Let me tell you the story of the time I started a cult.

So I used to vendor at anime conventions. We focused primarily on buttons, at one poaint offering over 200 unique buttpn designs.

Well one year we were our small local con and wanted to clear out our inventory so we could start fresh with new merch the following year. An easy way to do this is to do mystery bags. Each bag had something like 20 buttons (with no repeats!) for like $5 a bag.

I had done a series of buttons for some idol anime I cannot remember the name of bu had something like 9 different female idols and they wear cute outfites and sing and dance.

I made a button for each and every character.

This apparently was unheard of, most artists do their fav only but I made a point of doing them all.

Anyways so its starts with 1 kid, a teen, buying a mysery bag and being super excited to see to find out I had done "all of them" and they wanted to collect them all. They lroceed to buy a few more mystery bags then wander off.

Only they come back, and this time they bring friends. They buy us out of pretty nuch all of our mystery bags and theb set up shop on the floor in the corner of the hallways and proceeded to have the most epic trading session of all time. Going through all the bags, trading pins around until everyone had a complete set.

We even ended up just giving them some spares that were in the bags since they bought us out.

It was pretty cool.

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Workplace

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Nightwing x (f)reader

Tags: NSFW, secret identity, vigilante reader, office romance, fingering, kissing, biting, wounds, penetration, slightly toxic Dick Grayson,

"Holy shit, y/n?" A gruff voice called your name from across the police station. You turned away from your papers and in the direction the address was coming from, meeting a bloodshot wild gaze of a man who looked around your age. You didn't recognize him, who was currently in the middle of being escorted into a cell.

You didn't respond, assuming he confused you with someone else. He called you again, though. "Y/n! It's Spencer Van! We were in the fifth grade together-"

You met his crazy gaze again, raising your brow in question.

"Ms. Strums class!" He added.

You blinked, recalling the name of your fifth grade teacher. You began to recognize him. And your mouth twisted in disgust. You didn't remember much other than him being a piece of shit; bullying the smarter kids, and constantly interrupting your teacher during class. Not a person worth remembering.

Your grimace didn't deter him, though, as his gaze slowly studied you up and down. You began to regret your earlier decision to discard your blazer when his gaze landed on the undone top buttons of your blouse.

You hated going to the police station for this exact reason. The staff were nice, but the people they brought in... different story.

"Damn," Spencer groaned, his tongue sliding across his teeth. "You grew up gorgeous."

The blood drained from your face, and you felt nauseous. Now definitely swallowing bile. Detectives and staff were looking between you two as you took in a steadying breath and tried to avoid glaring at him.

"You like me like this?" Spencer continued, grinning a dirty, crooked smile and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "You like seeing me in handcuffs?-"

Before he finished his sentence, he was brutally shoved into the cell. The sound of the slam echoed throughout the station.

The detective who shut him up, Dick Grayson, stood towering, muscular, and gorgeous in his uniform, and your secret crush on him only grew. Dick barely broke a sweat while Spencer bounced off the wall and was now wheezing, struggling to get back up.

"You son of a bitch-" Spencer choked. "You fucking broke my rib!"

"Yeah?" Dick challenged. "Press charges when you're done serving ten years for drug trafficking. Prick." Then he slammed the cell door shut.

The rest of the room fell back into routine, the sounds of phone calls, walkies, filing papers, and conversations filling the air once more. Grateful for the change in pase, you returned to your documents.

"Ms. L/n, are you alright?" A low masculine voice you instantly recognized spoke behind you. You turned to see the detective. Sharp features and ocean-colored eyes pierced through your thoughts, catching you off guard. Your breath hitch at his size towering over you, while the smell of beachy cologne invaded your senses. His uniform hugged his body so well that you could almost see the defined muscle under the material.

"Yeah, thanks for hitting him." You stammered, your shoulders rising slightly.

"Sorry I didn't do it sooner." He frowned, his gaze flicking to Spencer, who still groaned in his cell.

You gathered your files. "Should we sit down to look over the Falcone case?"

"Yes, right." Dick gestured for you to take a seat at his desk. It was the only one in the room that wasn't covered in a million papers. Just his computer, a notepad, pen, and calculator lined up against each other in a tidy order, with a half finished cup of coffee sat on the corner. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

You shook your head. "Is there somewhere private we can talk?" Then, at his raised brow, you rushed to add. "I'll need to share some sensifitive information."

He nodded in understanding and got up, leading you down the hall. Your heels clicked behind him as he opened the door to a filing room lined with shelves. A single table and two chairs sat in the middle of it, illuminated by warm toned lights. The noise died down as he shut the door before pulling out your chair.

He spoke up as you sat down. "Late nights at the office, huh?"

You blinked, trying your best to look confused, also trying to cover the blush on your cheeks. "N-no. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, offering you his signature joking smile. "From our email exchanges, you were originally supposed to come here yesterday. I was just curious why the last-minute change."

You shook your head, rushing. "Nope, I just... I wasn't feeling well."

"Oh no." Dick said, his brow creasing. His tone of worry hid a chuckle that was desperately trying to escape. You were such a bad liar. "I'm glad you're feeling better then."

"Yes, well," you took your seat, pulling out a series of photographs from your folder and placing them on the table for him to see. "Falcone met with the owner of MacKenzie Buildings in his club two nights ago."

Dick made a big show of studying the photographs, which he took himself two nights ago. "Hmmm."

You continued. "Yesterday, as you know, MacKenzie was found dead in his apartment."

Dick nodded along to your words, picking up a photograph to study it closer before frowning. His brows furrowed as he looked at the picture. "How'd you get these? Did you hire a P.I.?"

"Not exactly." You lowered your voice, eyeing the locked door behind you.

When you turned around, his blue gaze was narrowed at you. Questioning.

"I'd like to keep the source confidential."

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Two nights ago.

"I need to go use the ladies' room." You spoke over the music before getting off your date's lap. He grinned and nodded, barely acknowledging you as he was distracted with a pair of girls dancing on a tabletop.

You matched with the man on a hookup app an hour ago, suggesting this club to meet uo, and he was more than happy to go - probably thinking he was going to get lucky. In reality, it was just a cover.

As soon as you walked off the main floor, you headed for the back of the club and out to an alleyway behind the building. Unwrapping a bandana from your wrist, you tied it around your face, hiding all of it, save your eyes.

Taking quiet steps in your combat boots on the gravel, you grasped at the bag slung across your shoulder as you spotted your opening. With a running start, you jumped up, grabbed onto the latter, and began to climb.

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Nightwing followed you for the fourth week in a row. This time, your escapades brought you to Falcone's nightclub, with some creep who wouldn't stop running his hands over the open back of your corset top. Dick had half a mind to knock him out there, and then each time you stiffened from his hand, brushing against your skin.

Wearing an all-black outfit which helped you blend in, you hiked your makeshift mask covering your face. You used the railings to scale your way up the roof with practiced ease.

Either gymnastics or calisthenics - if Dick had to guess. Or the mandatory self-defense classes at Gotham Law had incorporated parkour. Brushing his chin with his fingers, he perched casually on a nearby rooftop.

Silently lifting yourself up and positioning yourself on a rooftop that overlooked a large window, behind which Falcone and his men were gathered around a table. Dick watched you pull out a camera from your bag and begin to snap pictures. Like you were some kind of private investigator.

Dick watched patiently. He's seen you do this several times now. He was curious where this was heading this night.

Silence and the howl of wind replaced the club’s thumping bass, and for a moment, you felt utterly alone - until you heard the faintest shuffle above.

Instantly, you rolled out of the way just as the guy's fist came down to the spot where you just were. You got up, hid your camera in your bag, and assessed the assailant. Only one. Good. That you can handle.

You dodge the following blow as well, dropping to your hands and swiping your leg under both of his, knocking him off balance. He went down fast, and you took out the taser you always had in your pocket, bringing it to his neck and activating it until his body began to shake. You held it long enough for him to pass out. Then, you held your hand to his neck, making sure you found his pulse, ensuring he was still alive and walked on, taking your camera back out. As you were snapping the pictures, what you didn't see were the two other bodyguards approaching you on the roof.

Good thing he did.

Out of nowhere, you were grabbed around your waist and flung onto a higher up rooftop, and away from the meeting. "Hey!-"

"Quiet." A deep voice growled against your ear.

When you two landed on another rooftop, you stumbled and caught yourself on the rubble. You turned around, facing your new assailant.

Momentary shock took over as you were met with THE Nightwing. The protector of bludhaven, glowering down at you with a disappointed look under his mask.

"Nightwing!" You choke out.

"The one and only." He confirmed.

You've never seen him in person, never mind standing inches away from him. Your initial shock wore off to make room for anger of your own. "Look... thank you for saving me, but I don't need your help."

He smirked like you just made a joke, then gestured behind you, tilted his chin. "Turn around."

Tentatively, you turned and faced the street, away from him.

"Look down, down at the alleyway." He said. "See those guys patrolling outside the club with their M16's?"

You strained your eyes, trying to see what he was referring to. "No..."

"Exactly." He came to stand side to side with you, taking something out or his utility belt and holding it up to you. Upon initial inspection, you concluded it was a lens of some sort, and you brought it up to your eye. The lens did show a pair of bodies walking back and forth behind a brick wall. Heat sensors.

Embarrased, you handed him the lens. You took a breath, steadying yourself under his intense gaze. Heart pounding, you wondered why his presence felt just as dangerous as comforting.

"It sucks. Doing what I do. Not everyone can." He said.

"I'm not trying to do what you do." You defended yourself. "I'm no vigilante."

"Why do you need these pictures?"

You follow his gaze down to the camera clutched in your hands. "That's confidential,"

He then stood face to face with you. Or rather, face to chest with his frame dwarfing you. "Are you a P.I.?"

"No." You huffed, hoping your raised brow will stop any more questions. "Thank you for saving me. See you around." Then you hopped down the rails and to the ground.

You pushed open the door to your apartment, stepping in still in your club clothing. The corset top was dirty and pulled out of your leather tights, which tore at some point during your escapades, and your feet were in immeasurable pain from walking in those boots all night. You were tired as you tossed your keys into a bowl and locked the door.

A man cleared his throat behind you. "So this is where you live," Nightwing stepped into your living room.

Your voice hitched, and you jumped, rushing to switch on your lights. You stumble over your heals and nearly fall. He caught you around your waist and stabilized you.

"What were you doing at Falcone's club?" He asked, eyes searching your apartment.

"Did you follow me?" You asked, tone incredulous.

"Didn't have to," he pulled up a piece of paper and held it to you.

Your eyes widened. "Is that my car insurance?"

"Mhmm," he nodded, walking to your kitchen and flipping through the papers on your counter. "Pro tip: when you go on patrol, don't bring ID. Otherwise, the mask becomes obsolete." He grinned and picked up an envelope. "Ah cute, your children's hospital donation went through."

You snatched the envelope from his hand. "Give me that! And get out of my house!"

He tisked and shook his head. "Not before you tell me when you were doing following Falcone."

"I- I already told you-"

"You told me fuck all." He interrupted. "Now, I know exactly who you are, miss. L/N I know everyone you've ever met and how to find them. Easily."

He stalked closer, the shadows of your dimly lit room casting sharp angles on his face. “Now ill ask you one more tim. What were you doing at Falcone’s club?” His voice was low, the threat behind it unmistakable, and for a moment, you wondered if Nightwing was as dangerous as the people he fought.

You gulped, straightening your neck. "Look, nightasshole-"

"Weak." He snorted.

"You're breaking and entering." You continued. "I could call the cops on you."

He grinned, wondering if he should let you, only for his phone ring when you dialed. Then, he set the idea aside. "That building you were on when you were snapping your pictures belongs to Falcone. You were on private property without permission. I'm sure a lawyer would know what the name for that is,"

Your shoulders sagged as you lowered your gaze. "Trespassing."

"Very good." He said. "So go ahead and place that call, y/n." He shrugged. "Tell them that Nightwing, identity unknown, address unknown, broke and entered into your house." You approached you, his tone sharpening. "Meanwhile, I'll place my own call. About Y/n L/n, from apartment 2a on 21 Nelson rd. For trespassing on Carmine Falcone’s private property. We'll see how long you get to keep your license."

Your eyes widened in shock. Would he really ruin your career over this? And all of a sudden, the mantle of "protector" became subjective in your mind. You swallowed nervously, regarding him with unease.

In a sudden move, you raised your knee, aiming straight for his groin, hoping to take him by surprise.

He was way ahead of you, and he dodged your knee along with the follow up attacking from your punches and kicks.

You were backed up against the wall, one of his hands easily held both your wrists above your head.

"Cute," he murmured, his voice mockingly soft, as though you're struggling amused him. "Should I be insulted that you think you can fight off Blüdhaven’s ‘protector’? Those defense classes they make you lawyers take get worse and worse each year -"

You collided your forehead with his nose.

"Shit!" He swore, then huffed a laugh, raising his free hand to wipe at the trickle of blood trickling from his nose, and looked down at his hand. The distraction you hoped for wasn't effective as you struggled against his hold, which was rock solid.

"I think you broke my nose." He said as a matter of factly. "How's your head?"

"Fine!" You snapped at him, fighting to keep your vision from blurring at the edges. That was the wrong angle to use, you thought, cursing yourself for forgetting the lessons you got from your self-defense training.

"Yeah?" He sounded doubtful. "Not throbbing anywhere? Like over here," he gave a gentle tap to your temple.

"Ow!" The point he pressed shot excruciating pain throughout your head, and your vision blurred even more.

"Yeah, valiant effort on your part." He commented, his voice growing more and more muffled as you struggled to... to...

He snapped his fingers in front of your eyes. "Hey, hey, no. No falling asleep. You gave yourself a concussion."

"Get... out of my home," you slurred.

"Can't do that either." He sighed. "I'd be leaving you for dead." He grinned. "That wouldn't be very heroic of me."

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Well, this is certainly the most creative way he had to keep a woman up all night, Dick thought to himself, bringing the smelling salts up to your nose.

"Ah, christ!" You exclaimed, jerking away from the violent stench. "Why do you even have these with you?"

"You'd be surprised how often head injuries can occur in my line of work." He explained, putting them away. "I've had to keep myself awake after a lot of brawls."

You nodded, eyeing him wearily. It was so odd how casual he was acting about this entire situation. You felt like you were a prisoner in your own home, with him as a friendly warden.

"How's your nose?" You asked, your hands rubbing your temples to try and ease the pain.

"Eh," he shrugged, looking at his reflection on your phone. "I've had worse."

He demanded on staying until he confirmed you were better. When the throbbing stopped, he did a quick assessment of your vitals using some kind of gadget you've never seen before.

The following afternoon, you came back to a package resting on the pile of mail on your kitchen counter.

There was a note on top, scrawled in sharp, hurried letters: "Thank me later."

Suspecting who it might be from, you carefully turned the folder over, spilling its contents—a stack of photos showing Carmine Falcone in a close conversation with Owen MacKenzie, the owner of MacKenzie Buildings.

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Present Day

"Let me guess," Dick said, arms crossed as he leaned against his desk. "You’re suggesting there’s a connection between MacKenzie’s death and his meeting with Falcone."

You nodded. "Just speculation for now, but it’s no secret Falcone’s been after those developments. I think he made MacKenzie an offer he didn’t like, and the next day…"

Dick’s gaze narrowed, his fingers tapping idly against the edge of his desk. "So, what do you need from me?”

"You have access to the autopsy report," you replied, leaning forward. "If we can prove it was murder we can keep those properties out of Falcone’s hands.”

He studied you, scratching his head. "That’s making a lot of assumptions."

“Which is why I came to you,” you pressed, holding his gaze.

He raised a brow, lips quirking in mild amusement.

"If we’re right, we could keep dozens of families from getting pushed out onto the streets," you said, more earnestly.

After a long beat, Dick sighed and nodded. "I’ll see what I can do."

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Later That Night

Either that concussion affected your memory, or it dulled your self-preservation instincts, Dick mused as he watched you. He couldn't fathom why you kept diving headfirst into life-threatening situations.

You climbed the scaffolding at an abandoned construction site, slipping past rusted barriers until you reached the eighth floor. Perched on a narrow ledge, you crept toward a makeshift office in the corner—little more than a desk and chair surrounded by half-finished walls. Kneeling, you pulled out a lock-picking set and made quick work of the drawer, glancing over your shoulder once before opening it.

A low chuckle sounded behind you. "Not a shred of self-preservation in that little body of yours."

You jumped, heart pounding, and spun around to find Nightwing leaning casually against a support column, arms crossed over his chest.

"God," you muttered, trying to steady your breathing, "I thought you were a -"

"Bad guy?" He chuckled, tilting his head. "What exactly would you have done?"

"Maybe tase you," you shot back, turning back to sift through the documents in the drawer.

In two strides, he was beside you, looking over your shoulder at the papers. "What are we looking at?"

You glanced up at him, momentarily struck by his proximity. It took a beat too long for you to refocus, the sheer size and quiet intensity of him throwing you off balance.

"I’m looking for a ledger or a blueprint - anything tying this site to MacKenzie."

Nightwing raised a brow. "The project’s been transferred to Falcone. Announced just this morning."

"Do you believe that?"

He sighed, arms crossed. "Alright, trouble. Enlighten me - what’s your theory?"

"You really need me to spell it out?" you asked, arching a brow.

He smirked. "You think Falcone’s behind MacKenzie’s death."

You nodded. "A friend in Blüdhaven is working on getting me his autopsy report, and - "

"Oh, a friend?" he interrupted with a teasing tone. "Must’ve gone through all the right channels to get that, yeah?"

You frowned. "Of course."

He leaned in, the playful spark still in his eyes. "You know, a real friend would’ve gotten it for you just cus. No questions asked."

You stifled a blush, hoping your mask hid the heat rising in your cheeks. His gaze softened as it lingered on you, just a shade too long, his lips curling in a way that made your pulse quicken.

You were overcome with a need to defend Dick after Nightwing’s comment. "He's more noble than you," you said.

And oh god, if the irony alone didn't make Dick want to burst out laughing. Pull yourself together, he said to himself.

"Did anyone tell you." His voice was lower now, softer. "You have pretty eyes."

Thrown off, you glanced away, muttering, "Just… let me know if you see anything with MacKenzie’s name on it."

A low ding from the far end of the floor interrupted your sentence. You both froze, watching as the elevator doors slid open, and heavy footsteps echoed into the hollow silence. You quickly locked the drawer and put everything back in place.

Before you could even react, Nightwing’s arm was around your waist, pulling you back toward the edge of the building. He fired his grappling hook to the floor above, tugging you both up to safety. His hold on you was firm yet controlled.

Landing, you were acutely aware of every inch of him pressed against you, his gaze unreadable as he raised a gloved finger to his lips, signaling for silence. You swallowed, pulse racing, unable to tear your attention away from the solid, unyielding warmth of him beside you.

"Destroy every file on that table," a voice ordered. "Burn it all if you have to. I don’t want any trace left of his fingerprints here."

Your eyes widened. Proof that MacKenzie had been involved after all. You looked up at Nightwing, who nodded, clearly understanding the gravity of the moment.

The voice spoke again, sending a thrill of hope through you. "And make sure they do the same over at the south location. We don’t need loose ends."

Your eyes met Nightwing’s, urgency clear in your expression. There was still a chance to get evidence.

The smell of smoke drifted up from the floor below, mingling with the crisp night air as flames started licking up from the table and chair. You looked at Nightwing, panic flashing in your eyes. He didn’t move until the elevator dinged again, signaling the men’s departure.

"We need to get to that second site," you whispered, barely able to contain your urgency.

Nightwing’s gaze hardened, his earlier playfulness replaced by a steely resolve. "I need to get there. You’re going home."

"But-"

"No buts," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You want to help these people? Stay out of sight and leave the dangerous work to me. Trust me—this is my city."

For a moment, you considered arguing back, but something in his gaze warned you not to push him further. Instead, you gave a reluctant nod, allowing him to guide you away.

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There was a knock at your window.

You look up from your phone, already ready for bed in your pijama shorts and tube top. You see his outline through the glass as you aproach the window, already half-expecting bad news as you open it cautiously. You are met with Blüdhaven’s protector, leaning on the rail of your balcony, clutching his side, blood seeping through the cracks of his suit.

"Hey," he rasped, short breathes coming out of cut lips with a pained smirk as he raised a USB. "Got your evidence."

"You’re bleeding," you said, your voice a mix of shock and concern.

"Only a little," he grunted, but when he stumbled, you caught his arm, guiding him inside before he collapsed entirely. "You should see the other guy."

He helped you remove the top of his suit, leaving him bare to his hips. You tried not to linger too much on the ridges of hard-defined muscles lining up his chest, arms and stomach - it was a challenging endeavor.

Your hands moved carefully as you cleaned the gash on his side, trying not to let your worry show. "You should’ve gone to a hospital."

"They ask too many questions," he said with a wince but tried to smile. "And I’d rather have you play nurse."

Huffing, you rolled your eyes, but his words sent your pulse racing. You could feel his breath close to your cheek as you look down, the faint brush of his gloved fingers against your arm as you worked.

"Ive got a first aid kit. One moment." You said, getting up and bringing the white box that was kept on the top of your bookshelf. You've had some practice stiching up wounds back when your little siblings would get scrapes on the playground. You even wanted to be a doctor when you were a kid. Before you decided studying law was more interesting. Especially in a city like Bludhaven.

He drew in a gasp as you carefully threaded the needle, stitching up his wound. Finishing up, you placed a gauze bandage around the affected area, tisking. "You should still go get it checked out."

His fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, making you look up at him. Your eyes flickered to his, and for a second, wondering what color they were behind his mask.

“You dont need to worry about me,” he said softly, his fingers coming to play with the hem of your crop top. Your skin tingled where his touch brushed you. "But... I like that you do."

His words hung in the air, and your pulse raced as his gaze dropped to you lips, then back to your eyes.

“We shouldn’t-” you started, but before you could finish, his hand slid up under the back of your shirt, his warm fingers sending tingles along their path.

“I know,” he whispered, but then he pushed you towards him, lips pressing softly against yours.

Your hand moved to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. You took a moment to orocess the fact that you were kissing a stranger. It coukd be anyone under that mask. The need to know clawed at you.

"Nightwing?" You asked.

"Yes trouble?" He wispered, lowering his lips to lay kissed down your neck.

You felt your cheeks warm as your shoulders rose. "D-do you do this often? Sleep with people you save?"

He grinned then, nipping your earlobe as his hand, covered in calluses and scars reached around you, pulling you onto his lap. Gasping, you could feel his hardness on your silk shorts.

"Only when they take such good care of me." He asnwered, grinding up against you, brushing your sensitive clit in the process. "You know, to return the favor."

You gasped and he repeated the movement a few more times, until you were riding him still separated by your layer of clothing.

"You're gonna open-" You wimpered when a particularly long brush of his Dick sent a powerful sensation down your core. "-Your stitches. This... this isn't a good idea."

"It's a good thin% that you're here to fix me up then, isn't it?" He challenged, an evil grin playing at his lips.

You moaned and shook your head, still trying to think logical. "It will hurt."

"It hurts more not being inside you now, trouble." He wispered- no, whined- as his lips brushed your ear. "Please, put me out of my misery."

His finger slipped under your shorts and between your folds. "Fuck!" He caught his lower lip between his teeth, the bit leaving a beautiful read mark on his gorgeous lips. "You're so wet, trouble."

Unable to look away from him, you whimpered as his fingers brushed your insides.

"I dont even know who you are," you wispered in disbelief, more so to yourself than to him. "I don't even know your name,"

A small, curious part of him wondered how you'd react if he pulled off his mask and presented you with the very same face that's been working with you this past week at the station. Your "good friend" detective Grayson.

"I'm no one," he said instead. "Come here, baby."

A minute later, his suit was discarded on your carpet, along with your pijamas, as the two of you gasped and writhe against each other on your couch. You were riding him, the feeling of him filling you up was extacy. And his view provided him with an image of you panting on top of him, red lips parted as your hair fell in messy stands around your face and shoulder. "Trouble," he moaned. "You're so fucking sexy. Oh my god."

"Thanks, you like... a seven." You joked, then squealed, arching your back as he rose and bit your collarbone, driving into you hard.

"For that," he growled, a wolfish grin playing on his lips as he eyed the new bite mark forming on your skin. "I'll keep you up all night."

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"Y/n?"

You looked up from your computer to see your co-worker standing nearby, balancing a cup of coffee and a stack of files. She offered you a shy smile.

"Detective Grayson from the station is here for you."

"Oh, thank you!" you replied, quickly standing and smoothing your skirt and blazer. Nearly tripping in your heels, you mentally scolded yourself for coming to work instead of calling in sick; you could’ve used more sleep.

At the front entrance, Dick waited in uniform, coffee in hand, his usual bright smile already in place.

"Good morning," you greeted him with as much energy as you could manage.

"Morning," he replied, grinning. You couldn’t help but wonder what he put in his coffee to always look so chipper.

He held up a folder. "Here are the autopsy reports you asked for."

Your eyes lit up. "You got them? Amazing!" Taking the folder, you looked up at him gratefully. "Thanks, Dick."

"Happy to help," he said, dimples appearing as he smiled down at you. "I’ve got to get back, but let me know how the case goes, yeah?" He turned toward the elevator, giving you a casual wave.

"I will! Have a great day!"

As you watched him leave, someone cleared their throat behind you. Turning around, you found Lily standing there, a slightly nervous expression on her face.

"Hey," you said slowly. "Is everything okay?"

Saying nothing, she took your arm gently and lifted her phone, angling the camera so you could see yourself in selfie mode.

Your hand shot to your mouth in shock.

Clear as day, a bite mark peeked out from your collarbone. "Oh god."

You felt your face heat up as realization hit. How many people had already seen that? And oh god! Dick definitely saw it too!

Meanwhile, in the elevator, Dick allowed himself a small, satisfied grin.

[wasyago]

Please more Trail's gone cold au I'm begging you I need it just pour out every thought in your brain I want to hear it

hgdhhfbd i mean, sure why not

everything plot related is in the main post, there's nothing else really to tell. but i could share random details that didn't really fit into the lore drop. again tho, it's a small au and mostly an exploration of the concept, so there's not a lot.

❄️ gem and etho are siblings, i don't think it was mentioned anywhere? blood related and all that, they both have black hair, gem just dyes hers.

❄️ behind the scenes reasons for the order of deaths. generally i picked these three to be the main cast because i suddenly realized pet crew were just dungeon master and his two winners, and that was too crazy of a concept to not do anything with? so, tango as the main guy and actual master of the dungeon had to die first, seeing how he's the cave's favorite. pearl as the main explorer and as the one to unlock all the secrets had to die second, because she had to return to the dungeon / the cave to find out the truth, and she conquered it but never actually got out. and etho had to survive, because he's the "proper" winner and the one who actually escaped the dungeon with treasures.

❄️ lore reasons for the order of infection. tango you already know, but pearl and etho went in at the same time so in theory they had to start experiencing the effects together. but because etho was wearing a mask it did lessen the amount of sculk he inhaled, slowing down the process. wear masks kids!

and, well, you did say you wanted to hear every thought so. i really like the plot point of them leaving tango to die, so im gonna ramble a little about it. even just, the difference in their views on the situation is so satisfying to me. because tango had no idea something scary was happening to him! and for pearl and etho it was a life or death situation. and just-- they were talking about leaving tango and tango obviously, obviously, protested, because what the actual hell??? yes okay he's ill and a burden, but don't leave an ill guy to freeze to death in a cave, what is wrong with them????? or, okay, what is wrong with etho, pearl was against the idea. but, straight up tango did not plan for it to end this way, he had his whole life ahead of him and so many things ha still wanted to do! of course he cried when they left, what else was he supposed to do? thank etho for his awesome decision? be all cool and stoic and sacrifice himself? hell no, he didn't want to die, he never asked for this.

he did die tho, so. whomp whomp ��... i imagine he passed before pearl and etho even reached the stairs, so at least he didn't suffer for long. if he had a breakdown about being left alone he probably hyperventilated and inhaled like a ton more sculk, so that killed him even faster. must've sucked tho...

and then pearl, god, pearl.... she didn't encounter any dangers on the way back, since she wasn't trying to escape and the cave had no reason to be hostile towards her. but seeing how she was at the last stage before turning... she probably didn't get to tango before collapsing... not dying just yet, but too feverish and too weak to walk. but if tango was already back, he could very much go and find her. can you imagine the pure horror of drowning in your regrets as you slowly die and then having your supposedly already dead friend appear in front of you all cheery and oh so wrong. i dont know how much of tango is left in that thing, but the image of him sitting by pearl and holding her until she dies is so-- its haunting but it's sweet. and then there's still enough time to catch up with etho.

actually, gahhhh, all three pet povs are their own unique horror story and it's so good.

the horror of having to go through this terrifying experience, and then being the only survivor, knowing full well that the only reason you lived is because you left your friends to die, and there's no way of fixing it now.

the horror of everything falling apart around you because of miscommunication, and then the one time you decide to do it right you end up regretting every single decision and witnessing the direct result of your mistakes come for you.

the horror of being stupid... the horror of losing all control over your life and being betrayed in the moment of your most vulnerability, dying fully and utterly helpless.

this au is so sad but i love it so much...

okay wow that's enough for one post, ask more if you want tho!

[selfloverrrrrr]

Can you please write a tiger hybrid Gojo x deer hybrid female reader Noncon

Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please 😭🎀💖😫

Lust~

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physical and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, tiger hybrid Gojo, deer hybrid reader, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

"are you the new girl?" I heard someone asked me when I entered my new college. I turned around and saw a girl with short brown hair, a cigarette in her hand. "Yes.... I'm y/n... and you?" I asked. "I'm Shoko. Nice to meet you" she said and gave me a hug. "Why are you so nervous? I mean you seem so nervous" she asked. "Oh nothing.... it's just....my first day" I replied.

"goshhhhhh.... you're nervous for that?are you kidding me? Don't be nervous... I'm here with you " she said with a bright smile. I returned her the smile. "Thank you so much " I said. "Mention not " she replied. We started walking towards our class. "So? What hybrid are you?" She asked. "Me? I'm deer..." I replied.

"oh the rare one" Shoko said. I nodded. "And you?" I asked. "I'm a cat" she replied. "Ohhhh... cool" I said. She smiled "yeah". We were walking through the corridor and heard a female voice "good morning, Shoko" she said. We both turned around.

There was standing a pretty girl. She had blue hair tied up in a ponytail. "Oh good morning, Mei-saan" Shoko said. Then the girl looked at me. "Are you new here? I haven't seen you here" she asked. "Yes she's new....her name is y/n" Shoko replied.

"oh... nice to meet you, y/n.... I'm Mei Mei" she greeted. "Nice to meet you too, Mei-saan " I greeted het back. Then we went to the class room. Mei Mei went to her seat. Shoko told me to sit beside her. I did as well. We were sitting there and talking with each other.

I felt like someone was starting at me. So I checked around me. I saw a guy with white hair and bright blue eyes. He was looking at me but when I looked at him he immediately looked away and started talking with his friends. I thought maybe he was looking because I'm new here but he seemed weird. I turned around to Shoko.

"um Shoko?" I asked. "Yes?" She asked back. "Who's that guy? The white haired guy...?" I asked. "You mean him?" She asked. "Yes" I replied. "Girl just stay away from him... he's an asshole. I don't know what all these girls sees in him. Do not talk to him. if he wants to get close just ignore him. Okay?" She said.

"okay... but why are you saying it?" I asked. "Okay lemme tell you... his name is Gojo Satoru. And the thing is he's the son of the biggest mafia here. Everyone fears him. He's strong tho... He does too many illegal things like his dad. And the worst thing is he's a tiger hybrid. And I'm suggesting you to stay away because 1. He's a dangerous mafia and 2. You're a deer hybrid which is tiger's favourite animal. And I know he'll definitely hit on you because as I said you're the only deer hybrid here. And believe me he's the worst guy.... I'm saying this for your safety, girlie" Shoko explained.

I was in shock after hearing that. "That's too much.... anyways I don't wanna get in any trouble. But he doesn't know I'm a deer hybrid" I said. "He's a tiger hybrid, darlo....he can sense anything and he can get any information he wants" Shoko said. "Okay okay.... just.... just gonna ignore him" I said. She winked at me.

When I looked back again I saw a guy entering the classroom. That guy was so handsome. He has black long hair tied up in a bun, sharp eyes. My heat almost stopped when I saw him. I looked back at Shoko again. "Girl girl girl.... who's that guy????" I asked pointing at the guy.

"don't tell me you like him" Shoko said. "Why??? He's so handsome" I said with a pouty face. "He is Geto Suguru. He's a fox hybrid. And he is Gojo's best friend. He may seem so innocent but don't believe him either. They both are dangerous" Shoko said. I sighed "fine" I said. Shoko chuckled.

Gojo's POV

It was again a normal day in our college. I went inside of our classroom towards my friends. "Yoooo" I said and hi-fied with my friends. "What happened, Sukuna? You seem off?" I asked. "Nah... I'm just kinda sleepy today" he replied. I nodded. I heard some girls laughing. Then I looked at the door and saw Shoko. I was about to turn my head back to my friends when I spotted another girl behind her.

I never saw her before here. Is she new here? God she's so pretty. Girls like her exist? I questioned myself. Her eyes are so pretty. I think she's a deer hybrid. "Yo boys.... who's that girl?" I asked my friends. "I think she's the new student sir was talking about yesterday " one of them replied. I nodded. Then Suguru entered.

"what y'all talking about?" Suguru asked. "That girl... she's new here .... she's pretty" I replied. "Oh .... Satoru gotta crush huh?" He teased. I rolled my eyes. When I looked at her again she was looking at Suguru. Does she like him? Who cares? I'm still gonna have her. "Btw I saw her talking with Mei Mei outside" Suguru said. "Mei Mei? That's easy now" I replied with a smirk.

It was almost a week. And she's ignoring me?! All those girls die to date me and she's ignoring my offers?! All those hints I'm giving her by putting flowers in front of her droom room door every morning and she's ignoring me? Ignoring the Gojo Satoru? Today when we were in our class I spotted Mei Mei and called her.

"what?" She asked. "You have to a work" I said. "What work?" She asked. "You know I'm throwing halloween party two days later? You have to take y/n there" I said. "Y/n? She has a crush on Geto" she said. So I guessed right. "Anyways why am I gonna do that? She's a deer hybrid and you're a tiger hybrid, she'll be scared of you" She asked. "100 k" I replied. "Your work will be done" she replied and I smirked.

Y/n's POV

It was the party night and I just got ready in the costume Mei Mei gave me. "Mei-saan don't you think this bunny costume is too revealing?" I asked. "Come on y/n.... you look sexy " she replied. "But-" I was about to reply her when she cuts me off "y/n.... believe me.... and we all friends will be there too" she said. "Okay then.... let's go" I replied.

First I spotted Shoko. She was in a cow girl costume. "Shoko, you're looking stunning!" I said. "Stop girl you're looking Fucking sexy!" She replied. "Do you think this is too revealing?" I asked. "No... it's fine... you look sexy.... revealing clothes suits you" she said and winked.

We we're having fun. Then after a few hours Shoko said she'll come back haibara her boyfriend is calling her. I said okay and went to the drinks counter.

Gojo's POV

I didn't noticed when y/n came in my party. I noticed her when I was chatting with my friends and I spotted her near the drinks counter. Fuck she looks so hot! How am I supposed to control myself when she's looking so damn. I think Mei Mei did a great job. "Yo Gojo, what happened?" Sukuna asked.

"y/n happened" I replied. All of their eyes went to her. "Damn....that bitch looks sexy" Sukuna same. I gave him a glare. "Chill I'm just giving a compliment" Sukuna replied with a chuckle. "Weren't you saying she has a crush on me, Satoru?" Suguru asked. "Yupp she does" I replied. "Fine.... lemme help you with your plan. Go to the balcony in front of your room after 5 minutes" Suguru said with a wink and I understood what he meant.

Y/n's POV

I was about to order a drink when a male figure came beside me. "Hello.... your name is y/n, right?" He said. I turned my head and saw Geto standing there. And oh my God. He was in a pirate costume and he was looking so hottttt. "Yes" I replied with a smile. Shoko isn't here that means I can talk to him for a moment.

"you're looking great" he said. "T-thanks.... you looking great too tonight " I replied. "Just tonight?" He asked tilting his head aside. I blushed. "N-No i-i.... I mean every day " I said. "So you do notice me every day?" He asked with a smirk. Then he chuckled. "I'm kidding " he said. "Wanna talk somewhere private? Too much loud music playing here" he asked. "Yeah sure " I replied. He took my hand and led me.

We were standing in a balcony and talking about each other. "Oh I forgot my phone.... can you wait for a moment? I'm gonna come back here" he said. "Yes yes it's okay" I replied. He leaves from there. And I was standing there and waiting for Geto to come back. I heard some footsteps coming. That means Geto is coming, right?

But my smile dropped when I saw who was standing there. Gojo Satoru. Why is he here. "You don't seem happy to see me here" he said walking towards me. My heartbeat was rising. "I-i... I should go it's already too late-" I said and tried to walk past him. But he wrapped his hand around my waist and pulled me against him.

"tsk tsk tsk.... not now" he said and picked me up with his one hand and started walking. "W-wait what are you doing!" I panicked. Then I saw he opened a room's door. "W-wait put me down...let me go" I said with panic. He put me down after he entered the room. That was a luxurious room. He locked the door.

"wait let me go outside" I said. "There's nothing interesting happening outside, sweetheart" he replied and started walking towards me. I started baking up. I felt like I am a prey. "Gojo P-Please stop there" I said. "Ah....so you finally took my name.... now call me Satoru not Gojo" he said.

He was now standing in front of me there's no way escaping now the back of my foot already touched the bed. My eyes filled with tears from fear. "P-Please" I begged. He pushed both of us on the bed. "Do you really think begging gonna work?" He said and chuckled. I struggled beneath him and tried to push him away.

I screamed Geto's name for help. "Getooooo please help me!!!!" I cried out. "Oh you think he's gonna come? That's funny" Gojo said and tore off my costume. My cries grew louder. "A deer hybrid in a slutty bunny costume looks great.... and looks even more great without them" he said with an evil smirk.

With that he pressed his lips on mine. I tried to push him away but his grip was too strong. I can't even move myself. He was kissing me too roughly. I couldn't breathe. He grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head which was already soaked with the rain water. My boobs bounced out. He looked at those with lust in his eyes. His eyes shined in the dim light. He didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensetion. I grabbed his hair and tried to stop him by pulling it but it didn't even effect on him. "G-gojo stopppp" I screamed but he didn't stop. "It's Satoru, darling "

Then he took off my pantie. He looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " so wet. You naughty little slut, getting wet for me huh?". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pants.

His dick sprang out. It was too big and too thick. "Look... this is what you have done to me..." he said while stroking his dick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " G-gojo no no no... P-please no... s-stop" I begged but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I screamed. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder.

I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh... I don't want this ..." I moaned. Suddenly I felt his teeth gazing at my neck. "No no no d-don't please don't Mark me please " I cried out. He just ignored my please and bite my neck harshly. I dig my nails more deeper into his back as he Marked me. He continued thrusting. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. He fell beside me on the bed.

I didn't have the power to move or sit up. "Don't cover the mark tomorrow I want the whole college to see it...... and oh by the way your beloved crush Suguru helped with this" he declared. No that can't be.... Geto won't right? Gojo is just lying. I kept telling myself. "Good night sweetheart ~" he whispered in my ear as the night went blur.

Do y'all want a part 2? 👀

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[aspookycrow]

I have mixed feelings on this, let me share my use case and maybe it’ll open up some possibilities where perhaps you will see that not everyone is using it for space eugenics etc.

I agree in a lot of ways with OP. As much as I am perpetually fascinated by stories and semiotics, I think a lot of spiritualism can be a a mask for indulging some nasty unexamined biases. Hhhowever as a queer who will never have kids, increasingly being surrounded by friend groups who are coupling and reproducing and facing both success or in some circumstances, stress and tragedy, you never want to have any bit of advice that can be read as condescension. Premature or late or even perfectly on time, those parents are being surrounded by well-meaning platitudes or nudges that carry passive undercuts about their strategy and what they should have/could be doing differently.

The astrology friend though, you get to be the low-pressure nonsense relief. Your friend has intense pressure on her bladder that shows no sign of relent? “He’s holding out to be a Leo, smart kid imo~”

Your friend’s kid is two weeks premature? “Yooo, scorpio gang let’s goooo!”

This works for any number of scenarios. Just announced an early April baby? “An Aries? Better start baby proofing now, babe ❤️.”

These words likely don’t mean anything material to them, but what they mean is that they get to have a low-pressure conversation about their kid and the kid’s future that isn’t bogged down in dietary or nursing advice. You’d be shocked how quickly and how often diffusing the tension like that will turn into a cute little afternoon doing a birth chart for someone who literally cannot bear having one more conversation about their hospital bills.

Use what you have to spread benevolent joy, as much as you can, always.

“Bat swinging at wasp nest” post but I cannot be nice about astrology people. No you did not find the one good or cute or quirky way to believe the quality of someone’s character is biologically pre-determined. Just because you found a way to not base it on race or ethnicity or gender does not make judging someone’s character on an innate and uncontrolled attribute suddenly teehee fine.

I’m even more baffled by the people going “it’s just fun!” “It’s just a hobby!!” Sure if it was something harmless. It’s not. We are quite literally talking about how you intend to judge, treat, view, respect, and interact with someone entirely differently based on an inherent trait. How are you not aghast? How are you not embarrassed? Why are you so insistent on needing to operate on a hierarchy of pre-determined character judgement?

[aboutcustardcreams]

Wake up call

pt. 1

a/n: I'm not going to follow the series episode by episode, as I already mentioned. This story will focus primarily on the three witches' story, so I'll probably jump forward and back in time at my own discretion from now on. If you're curious about something in particular, feel free to tell me in the comments. Would you prefer that I go back or forward from now on? (also, sorry for eventual typos or mistakes).

pt. 2

Agatha looked as surprised as you for a moment. The boy was on his knees, squirming uncomfortably at the rope around his wrists and ankles. He said something, his voice sounded muffled through the duct tape.

“Oh, uhm.. well, I may have accidentally kidnapped him.” 

You blinked in disbelief, “How can you accidentally kidnap someone?”

The kid muttered something else you couldn’t quite comprehend. You thought it was his way to agree with you, so you grinned, whereas Agatha groaned in annoyance. As the boy persisted, you realized what he really wanted from you. 

“Oh–”, you mouthed a quick apology, lips stretching in an awkward smile as you took the tape off his mouth with a quick puck. He winced, but then muttered a ‘thanks’ to you. Had he been locked in there the whole night? Instead of that, you asked a different question, “you alright?”, twirling your finger, you made him turn around to untie the rope around his wrists and ankles. 

He sighed and gave you a grateful smile once free, “much better.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, not really sure about what else was to say, despite having tons of questions. There couldn’t be a moment worse than this to have to deal with a kid. 

“Agatha, love, care to explain?” 

Your lover paid no attention, or rather she feigned to be distracted doing practically nothing more than walking up and down the house, as she mentally freaked out due to the last events. 

“There’s nothing to explain–”, she waved dismissively, “For all I care he can keep the house.” 

The boy frowned and quite frankly so did you. You walked up to her, confusion written all over your features, “Agatha, what in heaven are you talking about?” 

The boy followed behind in silence.

When she suddenly spun around, Agatha was so close, you almost stumbled backwards. “Did you listen to Rio’s words or not?” There was a hint of frustration in her tone, quite relatable in fact, and yet...

Your head lolled to the side, “so your plan is to leave?”

“Glad you’re catching up," she grinned cheekily. 

With no magic at her disposal, she had no intention of facing the Salem Seven, and even less letting you anywhere near them to save her life. So running was the best and only option she could think of at the moment; that hopefully would give her enough time to figure out a way to restore her magic and be a witch again.

You ran a hand through your hair, eyes glancing only briefly over the boy, who gave you a tight smile in return. A part of you wondered what he was doing still there. Didn't he have places to be, like school or whatever? 

Before Agatha could walk from you again, you reached out to grab her wrist, “So, this is what we will do,” you started, silently enjoying the whiny sound slipping from her lips, “we sit down, talk it out like mature adults, and you–” pointing a finger at the boy, “you’re gonna tell me why you broke into our house in the first place.”

“Uhm.. yeah, I..”

“We don’t have time for this!” Agatha exclaimed, “Need I remind you there’s a price on our heads?” 

A playful smirk tugged at your lips and unable to resist teasing her, you quipped, “technically it’s on yours. I only happen to be in your shit as per usual.” 

The boy let out a quiet chuckle, that you were about to reciprocate hadn't it been for Agatha’s hand flapping at the nape of your neck, “Oof!" you whined. 

Amusement glimmered in her eyes, “You had it coming,” she retorted. Then she glanced over the boy, with a grimace. “Not to be rude or anything, but we’ve got a lot on our plate so if you could just–” She pointed to where the front door used to be, her confidence dimming slightly, “this house is a complete disaster.”

She looked so annoyed right now, tired and scared even, but the latter she would never admit. Completely forgetting about the boy, you focused on Agatha and placed a hand over the small of her back, “it’s not so bad…” you trailed off, resting your chin on her shoulder. She knew you weren't only referring to the conditions of the house. Her eyes fell shut for a moment, her features relaxed when you started stroking her skin, lips barely brushing against a soft spot behind her ear, “we have an excuse to redecorate now.”

Despite everything, Agatha let out a small chuckle. She turned around and draped an arm around your waist. With everything that happened in such a short time, she hadn’t given herself a moment to truly cherish the fact that you were back—the real you. Sure, even without your memories, you stood by Agatha’s side all those years, but having you here now, like in the old days, felt different. It was different. Her eyes darted from your face to your collarbone, nose scrunching up at the sight of the nasty bluish bruise— a reminder of Rio’s hands on you. Her hand glided up to your face, tracing your jawline before slowly moving down to your collarbone, fingers barely grazing your skin, mindful that it was still tender and possibly sore. 

“Are you–?” 

Your eyes softened at the hesitation in her voice, “you shouldn’t worry about that.”

“I always worry about what matters," she argued back. 

"Sappy," you teased.

With an eye roll, she smirked, "brat."

When her eyes darted towards the boy once again, she let out an incredulous scoff, “you better have a darn good reason to still be dangling here.” 

Color drained from his face. Quite frankly, Agatha could be intimidating when she tried. Even when she didn't. “I-I do!” He cleared his throat. “I want to walk the Witches' Road. It’s the only reason why I broke in here really and–” he was talking so fast, for a moment you thought your mind had tricked you. There was no way he said the words ‘witches’ and ‘road’ in the same sentence. 

Agatha's eyes snapped wide open, “what’s that you say?”

“The Witches’ Road,” he repeated, slower and firmly. It hit you hard. You couldn't help it. “I want you to take me there,” his eyes softened and so did his voice as he added, “please.”

Agatha tried to meet your eyes then, but you had your gaze dropped to the floor. 

“The Witches’ Road doesn’t exist.”

“You’re lying,” he argued. 

Agatha scoffed bitterly, “am I?”, voice rising in exasperation. 

When you slowly lifted your chin towards the boy, you squint your eyes so much as if you were troubled by a sudden headache, “You’re asking for a death wish here.” 

Agatha agreed, “quite literally.” 

The boy looked crestfallen, but he didn’t back down, “You only say that because you think I’m inexperienced, which is fair. I am. But I can make it to the end-” 

Your lips pursed in a grimace as you tried to make sense of everything that was happening. First Rio, then the Salem Seven on your heels, and now this boy who had no idea what he was asking for.

“Look, I love your confidence– but the Road is no place for a kid.”

Agatha sank into the couch in the lounge, curling a finger at you in invitation. Smiling, you obliged, perching yourself on the armrest beside her. You were close enough that her hand could slip to rest on your thigh, her fingers tracing soft, lazy patterns over the fabric of your pants. The gentle rhythm of her touch soothed you, and you allowed yourself to calm your nerves, focusing on her proximity and nothing else. 

“I’m sixteen,” he objected, taking a seat onto the chair across from you. 

“Oh, why didn’t you say that before? That changes… nothing.”

You had to stifle a laugh at her sarcastic remark. 

He gave a dramatic eye roll. “Come on! You walked it before and survived!” 

Your brows knit in a frown. Just how much did that boy actually understand about you and Agatha? Or rather, how much did he think he understood? No one truly knew what it had been like for the two of you back in the eighteenth century. People clung to their own assumptions, and you let them—after all, the real truth was far too painful to share. Not a single soul knew the true story behind the reputation Agatha had built, nor the reasons why so many had to die in the first place. 

Agatha’s hand stilled on your thigh, “I had a very good reason to stay alive, plus I’m exceptional.”

It wasn’t a lie, not completely at least. 

The boy’s eyes shifted from Agatha’s to yours. You felt as if he knew what Agatha was talking about you. You saw something, a glimpse of understanding in those eyes that somehow unsettled you. If Agatha was known as ‘witch killer’ for all the wrong reasons, your reputation also preceded you, but you struggled to say the words. 

“I read an egregious amount about you two. I’ve been obsessed since I first came up with your Salem days… the way you two met, and oh my God- don’t get me started on your magic skills.”

So you and Agatha had a little fan. 

Agatha’s interest rose considerably. She grinned, “cute. Isn't he a cute pet?” 

“Honestly, I’m not sure whether to be flattered or freaked out by all this interest,” you mused.

The boy completely ignored the fact that Agatha just called him pet. “Sorry, I just– you’re a necromancer witch!” He was now struggling to keep a posed tone of voice, and you found yourself scratching the back of your head, not really used to being praised by your gift/curse. Quite the opposite in fact. “Guilty as charged,” you quipped.

Agatha’s hand moved towards your knee, thumb brushing in a soothing circle there. You smiled inwardly at the gesture.

“Books say witches your kind is so rare, powerful and–”

“harrowed, banished, burned at the stake?” You cut him off in a sing-song tone. 

Agatha snorted, “you name it.”

She knew better than anyone what it felt like to be brushed aside. It was one of the reasons why she could bond with you so easily and so quickly. You understood her before she could even attempt to comprehend the complexity about herself and her power. 

Teen blinked confusedly, “I was gonna say interesting.”

You clasped your hands together and took a deep breath. “Look, we appreciate your enthusiasm. You seem like a really smart boy, and I’m sure you’re destined for great things, but we can’t help you, not with that-” 

“But I saved Agatha from the spell…” his smile turned into a frown and his features dimmed  as a consequence, “I’d have come to you too if she hadn’t locked me up in the closet. But w-wait,” he suddenly came to a halt, eyebrows knitting in a frown as a new question popped up in his mind. “How did you wake up from the hex?”

Agatha knew, but said nothing, leaving the explanations to you.

“It’s hard to explain–” Being a necromancer allowed you to have all sorts of… vibes. Plus your soul was connected to Agatha’s and her life being threatened by something– or rather someone you knew quite well worked as a wake up bell for you, “it’s like a sixth sense, but better. I can always feel when Agatha needs me. I got a pull into reality the moment Rio broke into the house with the purpose of harming her. I felt her aura. She and I– let’s just say our magic works like opposite poles of a magnet.”

Agatha’s features hardened a bit, as she nibbled on the inside of her cheek out of nervousness. Your magic being complementary to Rio’s had caused you more problems than anything else. She almost lost you to her, and that’s something she would probably never forget. 

The boy hummed in thought. He was clearly intrigued by your magic and took a mental note to ask you more questions at the first next opportunity, considering he left his notebook in the car.

“And who’s Rio? I didn’t hear much but– there seemed to be a history–”

“Trouble.”

“A bitch.”

Both you and Agatha said in unison. 

“We don’t really need to talk about her now…” you kept vague, hoping he would catch the silent message passing through your eyes. Talking about her was never easy, not when your feelings for her were so tangled and conflicting. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love her anymore, cause you still did. And Agatha... well, she probably did too, however, she would never admit it, not to you and even less to herself. The past clung like a shadow, and neither of you could ever truly forget. The ache of Rio's choices lingered, buried deep, a silent reminder of what your bond once was and could never be again. 

He pressed his lips together and gave you a slow nod of his head in return. 

“I’m curious,” she smacked her lips, your head turned towards her, as she continued, “If you’ve got the goods to break a spell cast by the Scarlet Witch, why do you need the Road?”

Your eyes widened in shock. Was she really considering this?

“The Road promises that what you’re looking for awaits at its end. I need to walk the road so I can figure out the extent of my power..” he explained and she hummed, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Don’t you need power yourself?”

Agatha’s back stiffened, “I most certainly do, yes.”

“She doesn’t need to walk the Witches' Road for that,” you pointed out, glancing at the purple witch with the corner of your eyes. 

The boy was confused. Without giving him too much information, you simply told him that you could share your magic. And, in a way, it was true. A more accurate version would have been explaining that Agatha could kill a witch by absorbing all her power, leaving nothing behind but dust. But that was far too dramatic, plus you were still one hundred percent sure she couldn’t and wouldn’t harm you in any way.

She let out a long, exhausted sigh at your insistence, “For the umpteenth time, I’m not taking your magic–” 

“Ugh!" You groaned. "Aggs, Rio warned us–”

“She mentioned the Salem Seven, didn’t she?” The boy cut you off. “I’m sorry but y-you’ve got zero chances against them without magic, Agatha.” 

She shot him an icy glare, “Thank you for stating the obvious.”

Your lips trembled a bit, as you struggled to hold back an amused grin.

“I’m just trying to understand which alternatives you have,” he muttered defensively. 

Agatha opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Nothing that she could use to hush both you and the kid. 

“He’s got a point, you know. You need my magic, like right now.” 

Once again, she ignored you. “Or maybe, we need to walk the Witches' Road one last time.”

The boy’s mouth parted ajar, “Really?”

“Really?” You echoed in a squeak. 

She simply nodded her head, giving you an innocent smile that only fueled your incredulity. You let out a quiet, bitter chuckle right after, at the same time shaking your head in disbelief. 

“Agatha, sweetheart, a word?” 

You held out your hand for her to take, and just like she did a moment ago, you forced a serene, tranquil smile—one that didn’t quite reach your eyes but would have fooled anyone who didn’t know you better. She took your hand, her fingers curling around yours as she let you lead her toward the kitchen. Once you were far enough from the boy to speak more privately, you locked eyes with Agatha. Your face was practically shouting, ‘What the hell?!’ —a silent message that she heard loud and clear, without a single word spoken.

“The Road doesn’t exist! What’s your plan?” 

“We are the only ones aware of that,” she stated matter of factly as if that could be used as a great advantage. “Teen is right, without my magic, I can’t defend myself against the Salem Seven, I can’t protect myself or you.” 

If this wasn’t handled carefully, it could spiral into something much worse. You knew, better than anyone, how deeply it hurt Agatha to feel powerless, especially when it came to protecting those she loved. She had faced this agony with Nicky, and now, here she was again, reliving the same fear, this time, for you. Her own life, in that moment, felt like nothing compared to yours. Because without you in it, there was no existence worth living for her. 

“You could,” you insisted, in a low, almost pleading tone. “if only you took my power–” It was so easy.

“I’m not willing to take any risks with you,” she stepped into your bubble, her hands tightening around your shoulders, in a possessive and yet still attentive way. She wanted you to understand. She needed you to be on her side on this. “I need to make sure I've got control over my thirst first. It's been so long since the last time I did that so I'm sorry but you’ll not be the lab rat for it.”

“Are you really thinking of using the boy?” 

Agatha’s mouth dropped open, “Oh no, my God- no! I’m not talking about Teen, you idiot!” 

You crossed your arms over your chest and gave her a defiant look.

She gave in after a bunch of seconds, “Okay, maybe I did think of him for a minute. He did break the Scarlet Witch’s hex, though." 

You pinched the bridge of your nose at that.

“But we still need to ‘walk’ the Witches Road, except that this time, we aren’t killing anyone,” you’re ready to argue back again, but she didn’t let you, so you bit your bottom lip instead, trying really trying to find the silver lining at the end of this plan. “Here’s what we will do: we gather a coven, make some female friends, sing the Ballad, it doesn’t work, wowie-!, I call them names, they get angry and blast me. I take their magic and stop right before they turn into dust.”

She paused and took into your eyes, letting you assimilate her words, hopeful you’d find her idea good enough, because there was really no time for anything else. 

“So, to recap—,” you cleared your throat, “you’re willing to lie to that kid, to the poor witches we’ll meet along the way, witches who’ll eventually turn against us once they learn our intentions, but you’re not willing to take my magic that’s literally within arm’s length because you’re scared you’ll kill me.” 

She hummed, feeling quite satisfied with your summary, “yep.”

A slow smirk spread across your lips, “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe," she conceded. "But this plan’s gonna work.” Agatha shifted closer, her hands sliding to your hips, her fingers pressing into your skin with a slight possessive touch. 

Your gaze fell to where her hands rested and for a moment, there was silence. 

Time ticked. She waited. 

“Fine. Oh my God- fine–” 

Before you could say anything else, she pulled you into a crashing hug. Your pout quickly turned into an amused smile, and finally into a fit of giggles when her lips began peppering kisses all over your face. 

“Atta girl!” She said with a proud grin, to which you responded with a snort. 

You’d be pissed, though, if by the end of the day, you’d be forced to resurrect a bunch of witches. But you kept quiet about that.

[raointean]

I actually love the idea that Billy and William fused instead of just body-hoping. William would have died if Billy didn't come in and they fused! I love him saying that he has a mom because adoption right 🎉

Yes! The alternative is just too sad for me. As for the adoption thing, it's NOT just this fandom that struggles to understand bio vs. adoptive parents. I'm in the Star Wars fandom and there are SO MANY PEOPLE that refer to Anakin and Padmé as Luke and Leia’s "real" parents. Meanwhile, Owen, Beru, Bail, and Breha are called kidnappers or just ignored entirely (yes, I loved the Obi-Wan show. Why do you ask?)

I think the same problem is sometimes happening in this fandom too. We know Wanda and Vision as characters and we want them to be a happy family. We do NOT know Rebecca and Jeff Kaplan nearly as well, so there's a tendency to want to take the child from the characters we don't know as well and give him to the characters we know, like, and want to be happy.

On a slightly happier note, here's all my headcanons about Billy Kaplan's life (not Billy Maximoff or William Kaplan, but the entity that is both of them)

As William's heart stopped, his soul separated from his body and was on its way to wherever Jewish people go when they die

Billy M's soul, at the same time, was fleeing because it didn't have a body to support it

He found William's body easy enough to get into (because a soul had just left it) and close enough to alive to be fixed

However, William's soul was in between Billy M and the body

Billy M could have gone around and been the only soul in the body, but he was scared, okay?

Poor guy was only a couple days old, alone for the first time ever, and his mom had just kinda killed him and the rest of his family

Long story short, Billy M crashes into William and drags them both into the body

Billy M fixes the body just enough to keep living, but doesn't bother too much about the head injury

Meanwhile, William is stuck to Billy M like silly putty when you have two different colors and, by the time they get to the hospital, the two colors have blended entirely to form a new color

There's no way to differentiate one from the other

Billy Kaplan is born!

Because Billy M didn't fix the head injury, they both have amnesia

Billy K wakes up and it's literally "no thoughts, head empty"

(Except for some lingering sensation of loneliness... like there should be something someone? else there)

But not for long because he soon discovers he can hear other people's thoughts!

Which is really funny because he doesn't know that other people can't hear his thoughts

Poor guy genuinely thinks that humans communicate via telepathy for a solid 24 hours before he gets enough weird looks that he puts two and two together

(His parents are totally aware of this

There's only so many times your kid can answer exactly the thought going through your head without you catching on

Also, this is the Marvel universe!

Shit like this just... happens sometimes

They figure he'll come to them when he's ready, and until then they'll think nice thoughts and be supportive)

Billy K spends a solid four months trying to remember who he was before, stealing memories from his parents' heads, and pretending to recover from the amnesia

(Rebecca and Jeff try so hard not to make him feel like they're just waiting for their old son to come back but...)

Four months in, Billy's at the mall with his mom on some errands and that's where he sees it

Hot Topic

He begs his mom to go in there, and it's the first really normal teenage thing he's done since the car crash so she lets him

For the first time in four months, Billy forgets all about car crashes, and memories, and hospitals, and expectations

All that exists is spiky jewelry, ripped black skinny jeans, and a million of those cheap and hilarious pins

Over time, the family settles into his "new normal" and chalk most of it up to teenage experimentation

In that three year period though, Billy can't shake the feeling that something's still missing

He feels out of place in his body, even with the new aesthetic

(He sees that one tumblr comic about the coocoo bird and cries-- a lot. It's the closest he ever gets to telling his parents about his out-of-place feeling)

He doesn't tell them though

Instead, he digs and digs into the weirdest, darkest, most demented corner of the internet

Reddit

[itsa-me-lily]

God I love this au, it's feeding me so good today. The last one with the part about only one bedroom has me thinking about a sick reader, the gross kind of sick where you're sweaty and wheezy and snotty, and the fact that if it were anyone else Simon would be quarantining them. But because it's his spouse, he wakes up to you nasally wheezing and mouth breathing while sprawled across him, and all he can think about is when you're due for your next round of medicine and if he needs to buy more tissues.

Sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste. Also do the guinea pigs have names and what do they look like?

I'm dying. This is the first ever ask I've ever gotten (that I recall) and I'm going to pass away. Also "sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste" that is such a good line, I'm apologizing in advance if I steal it.

Also warning for content of being sick, this is based off my last bout of plague.

Also Also Here's the Masterlist

Bedsharing in general does not happen at first. (Now I want to percolate an idea about sharing the bed for the first time). You're way to use to having your own bed that sharing with someone means you're not sleeping easily and I think Simon would rather sleep with the guinea pigs in their cage than have another human being that close to him when he sleeps. (This was also not something he initially thought about when being told a spouse was to be picked)

So what's the solution? Obviously bunk beds! Kind of, sorta...okay not really but the look on Simon's face when you had suggested getting bunk beds had been entertaining. Who knew so much indignation could come through a medical mask. Really his eyebrows did so much talking.

With the dream of bunkbeds dashed, the next best solution was either two twin beds crammed into the bedroom with a bedside's worth of space between them, or a pull out couch. You managed to find a couch same day that didn't terribly clash with the artwork you have yet to hang up.

You two actually manage to come up with a schedule for who slept where. Obviously you'd get the bed when Simon was deployed, made no sense for you not to. And when he was home the bed was all his unless he was having a night that he knew he wasn't going to trust a deadbolt to keep monsters at bay. Then he made himself comfortable, TV playing low until he managed a few hours in the early morning before you try to leave a silently as you can for work.

(Funny thing, even if you aren't sharing a bed traditionally, you both most certainly have your own sides, along with bed stands that told two different stories)

The first time you get sick is when Simon is technically deployed. Well actually, the day he returns is the day you spike a 101.8 fever and work forces you to go home so you don't become a walking petri dish and expose the college kids that come into your office.

Once you're home you appease the little beasts demanding some sort of vegetal boon, change into the rattiest clothes you have, and then huddle under a staggering amount of blankets that have made their home on your bed. (Simon may have side eyed them when you first set them out, but you've seen the mountain he creates under them, you knew the magic of weighted blankets)

Sleep isn't peaceful, you hadn't broken out the Nyquil quite yet, but you do manage to drift off for a few hours. And then the coughing starts. It's the kind that's a bitch to deal with, dry and pushing your ribs to the limit with how often they can expand and contract. By the time Simon comes home you've steamed yourself twice, taken only a smidge over the recommended amount of cough suppressant, and slathered yourself with Vic's Vaporub. All in all, you were properly miserable.

You're in the kitchen, staring into the abyss of your over-steeping tea as if it will magically make you feel better if you only sell your soul to it, really a tempting offer, when the wheeks of the pigs announce that another person they know has arrived.

If Simon wasn't clued in that something was off at seeing you home before the end of your work day, the pungent smell of menthol would have been a dead give away. You're still communing with your tea when he knocks against the wall, pulling you out of the deal for your soul to meet him with bleary eyes and a flushed face.

You croak out a greeting that makes Simon wince in sympathy, though that's about all he really does. Simon doesn't really do pleasantries and doting probably wouldn't be the first word people use to describe him, so with your brain function reduced by an overflow of mucus and fever, the kitchen was rather silent.

Until you started coughing, face buried into the crook of your elbow to try to keep your contagion to a minimum and back bowing to nearly double you over. That drives Simon to action, coming to try to keep you up incase you collapse, grabbing your free arm.

When you feel him touch you, you try to pull away, shaking your head and finally finishing your bout, gasping a little as you try to daunting task of breathing and speaking to dissuade him from getting close lest he catches what you have. He clearly wasn't persuaded, hands clenching and unclenching like he simply wanted to pick you up and put you...somewhere.

How exactly Simon Riley would take care of you, he didn't know but he'd be damned sure to at least try. He'd been left to fend for himself while sick before and he didn't like the idea of you going through that. When it was clear that he wasn't going to just leave you to your suffering you relented enough to try to reach a compromise; if he'd be alright watching the pigs while you were sick that would be more useful than a nursemaid while you camped out on the couch.

That...that was something Simon could do. He'd watched how you took care of the boys, surely this was something he could do. And then his brain caught up to the rest of what you had said. There was no way he was going to let you sleep on some pull out couch, as nice as it was. Being Sick meant sleeping in a proper bed, on a mattress that didn't spend it's days folded up.

You tried to insist it was alright but he wouldn't listen to a word of it. Instead he practically herded you back to the bedroom, ignoring your murmurs of your abandoned hot beverage. He didn't lift you to plop you onto the bed itself but it was a near thing. He had to bribe you with the promise of a proper cup of tea for you to even lay your head on your pillow, eyes already heavy with the need for sleep. By the time he had actually made a cup you were out for the count, nasally mucus filled snores letting him know you hadn't perished in the time it took him.

The next few days were filled with mucus, the attempted escape of your lungs via coughing fits, and more Vics than the human body should be exposed to. And the entire time you insisted that you could fend for yourself. Simon didn't push to play nurse, but your tissues never ran out, a dose of medication was always ready on your bedside, and a warm cup of tea stood waiting for you after each nap, like a solider committed to his guard.

Edit;

I'm going to make a separate post for the guinea pigs, because honestly I'm torn on if they're based on my guinea pigs I used to have, or guinea pigs I'd want to have in the future

[le-higuu]

Transcription below the Read More:

Stan: wakes up disoriented, then jolts upright after realizing where he is.

Ford: "mm... Stanley?— Oh! Are you back?"

Stan: "...Yeah. I'm back."

Ford: "Do you... Remember what happened?"

Stan: "...Yeah. I..."

Stan: "I was actin' pretty weird, huh?"

Ford: "Well, sure, but you know me— weird is my specialty."

Stan: "Yeah, yeah, yuck it up."

Ford: "So, what is it like? Do you retain your adult memories? Fiddleford thought you might not, but you knew who he was, so I disagreed."

Stan: "Wow. You uh. Sure have a lot of questions. Never change, Six."

Fiddleford: I heard y'all yappin'. You back, Stan?"

Stan: "...Yeah."

Fiddleford: "Oh, good."

Ford: "So, which one of us was right?"

Fiddleford: "I ain't so sure he wants to talk about that Ford."

Ford: "Ah? Why's that?"

Fiddleford: "Well, I certainly don't wanna talk about my... episodes."

Ford: "But this is different, Fiddleford! There's so much we don't know!"

Fiddleford: "Well it ain't our business to know."

Ford: "Of course it is, I'm his brother."

Fiddleford: "Well I ain't —"

Stan: shouting, "Would'ya both shut your yaps!?"

Stan: "Look, it's just a weird thing that happens sometimes. We all had our laughs, now let's forget it. Okay?"

Ford: "...What do you mean, 'happens sometimes'?"

Fiddleford: "Ford!"

Ford: "What? This is important context!"

Stan: "HAH! Did I say that? I meant that— it— uh— happens to people. In general."

Ford: deadpan, "I have literally never experienced that before in my life."

Stan: "Well— duh— Y— YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!"

Fiddleford: "Well, Stan, if this were a reoccurring phenomenon, it'd help to know what might trigger it so we can avoid it in the future. Y'know— so you don't have to experience that again."

Stan: "...Right. Experience... That."

Ford: pauses for a second. "...Was it really so bad?"

Stan: "What?"

Ford: "Look, I know it's silly, and childish, and I was worried at first, but... Being able to just... pretend, for a while. Go back to when we were kids and things were so... simple."

Ford: "... I didn't hate it."

Stan: pauses for a second. "... I didn't hate it either."

Ford: "What's it like?"

Stan: collects his thoughts. "It's like... My brain just kinda goes into a fog, and I can't... think adult things? It's kinda fun sometimes, even. If I find a toy or a game to play. Sometimes it, uh... Wasn't."

Ford: "But it's not harmful to you in any way?"

Stan: "I mean... not as far as I can tell?"

Ford: "Then I see no reason for us to be concerned!"

Fiddleford: "But Ford, what if it happens while he's alone?"

Ford: "...Ah."

Stan: "Hey, don't worry about me. I've been fine on my own so far, right? Take it easy."

Ford: "But ... you haven't."

Ford: "The entire reason this happens is because you were alone for so long. And I don't want you to be just fine. Besides, it's.. partially my fault. The least I can do is support you."

Stan: "...So that's it, then?"

Ford: "What?"

Stan: "So, the only reason ya went along with this— did any of this—"

Fiddleford: "Hey, now.."

Stan: "Was because ya felt guilty? It wasn't even your fault!"

Ford: "Of course not, I—"

Stan: "Quit lyin' to me!"

Ford: "I'M NOT!"

Stan: "Yes you are! You think this is some sick science experiment, don't you?? Well, I'm not—!"

Ford: "I MISSED YOU TOO!!" Ford is hugging himself.

Ford: "I... I missed being your brother. And this— being able to laugh with you, and play, and tell stories... It was good! I... I missed that."

Stan: "... I missed it too. Ok? Why d'you think it even happens in the first place? I'm not dumb. But we can't really go back. No matter how much we want to."

Ford: "Why not?"

Ford: "Why can't we act like kids again? Don't we deserve to have that back? After everything? After everything this evil fucking world has taken from us... Don't we deserve to get something back for once?"

Stan: sniffs. "....maybe."

Ford: "Then let's figure this out. Together."

Stan: "... Wherever we go."

The brothers hug each other.

Fiddleford: thinking to himself, "Thank God they made up."

your age regressed Stan has interested me, would you be willing to do more?

very well <3

[angelbaby191]

More than Headlines

Kirishima x Bakugo x GN! Reader

The studio lights were a little harsh, and the set—polished and brightly colored—felt strangely out of place for what was supposed to be a serious interview. But you had Eijiro on one side, his warmth a steady anchor, and Katsuki on the other, his usual grumbling and intensity tempered by a quiet loyalty. You’d been married almost a year now, and while the public eye never quite left the three of you, you were used to it by now.

This interview, though, had a different weight to it. It was one of the first times you’d all appeared together in an exclusive, high-profile sit-down, and even Katsuki had reluctantly agreed to take part. They’d framed it as a chance to highlight your agency’s work and address the skepticism about your unique marriage, but deep down, you suspected the headline would have more to do with your relationship than your hero work.

As the reporter started, Eijiro leaned forward, his grip around your shoulders firm and reassuring. The first questions were harmless enough.

“So, mr Red Riot,” the reporter began with a gleam in his eye, focusing on Eijiro. “You've been with the Hero Association since graduation. Tell us—what made you want to start your own agency?”

Eijiro's smile was bright and genuine, the way it always was when he talked about his dreams. "Well, it wasn't just me. It was all of us," he said, gesturing to you and Katsuki. "The three of us have been working together since U.A., through training, through missions. We’re a team, and eventually, we wanted to have a place where we could work the way we wanted—focusing on the missions and the people who need us most, not just on what makes the best headlines."

The reporter nodded, his smile looking more like a smirk as he leaned forward with an intrigued glint in his eyes. “You make it sound so easy,” he pressed, feigning curiosity. “But starting an agency isn’t a small feat, especially for three high-profile heroes. How did you make it all work?”

“Yeah, well, we worked our asses off,” Katsuki interjected before you could answer. He crossed his arms, his glare practically daring the reporter to say something snarky. “We knew what we wanted, and we got it done. You think we’d be sitting here today if we didn’t know what we were doing?”

Eijiro shot Katsuki a soft, playful elbow to the ribs, chuckling. “Kat’s right. We’re stubborn when it comes to our goals, and we knew we could create something better together than what was out there.”

The reporter’s smile twitched, clearly hoping for a softer, more marketable story, but he quickly moved on. “Right,” he said, his tone still a bit dismissive. “But let's talk about that legendary War during your first year. A lot of people look back at U.A. and talk about that as a moment that changed you three and many others. How do you feel about it now?”

There was a collective pause as memories of that time resurfaced. Eijiro’s usually cheerful expression dimmed as he looked at the floor briefly, his brow furrowing. “It changed all of us,” he admitted, voice quieter. “We were kids, thrown into a war we weren’t prepared for, but we made it through because of each other. We lost people. Friends. But we didn’t let that stop us. If anything, it made us stronger.”

You placed a comforting hand on his arm, grounding him. “That time taught us what it means to fight for something bigger than ourselves. And it taught us how important it is to have people by your side.”

The reporter nodded, looking a bit thrown off by the honesty in your words. Shifting slightly, he tried another angle. “Your quirks work well together. I know that Kirishima's Unbreakable Quirk is legendary, paired with Bakugo's explosions and—well, your unique abilities. How do you make them work together so fluidly?”

Katsuki scoffed, a half-smirk forming on his lips. “We’ve been doing this for years. You think we don’t know how to back each other up by now?”

Eijiro grinned, his earlier sadness dissipating. “Yeah, we each know our roles in a fight and where our strengths lie. Kat’s explosions keep the offense up, I’m the shield, and you—” He turned to you, his smile softening, eyes warm. “You tie it all together, Angel. Your quirk makes us stronger, gives us the edge to push through anything.”

You returned his smile, feeling the familiar surge of pride that always came when you fought alongside them. “We’ve always had each other’s backs. We’re a team; it’s what makes us effective.”

The reporter tapped his notepad, as if searching for a new angle to throw at you. His voice lowered, taking on a more personal tone. “And what about when the teamwork ends for the day? Surely being together in the field, then going home together, must make things… complicated.”

Your smile didn’t waver, but you felt Eijiro tense slightly beside you, and Katsuki’s expression grew darker. He wasn’t one to entertain personal questions, but his eyes flicked to you, letting you handle it.

“Not at all,” you replied evenly. “It actually makes things easier. We know each other better than anyone. Being able to go home to people who understand you on that level… it’s a blessing, not a complication.”

“Interesting.” The reporter’s tone held a note of skepticism, and he angled his body toward you. “You must get a lot of questions about your marriage, though. After all, it’s not every day we see a poly arrangement in the hero world.”

Eijiro chuckled lightly, trying to ease the tension that had started to creep in. “Well, it’s not the ‘normal’ relationship, I guess, but it’s ours. We didn’t set out to make any kind of statement—we’re just happy together.”

The reporter’s eyebrows rose, his smirk widening as he leaned in a little closer. “Happy, yes, but a question many have is how exactly it works. I mean, three heroes… I imagine things must get interesting behind closed doors, if you know what I mean.”

The moment he said it, you felt the heat spike in the room. Katsuki sat up straighter, his jaw locked, hands balling into fists. His voice was low, simmering with suppressed rage. “The hell did you just ask us?”

The reporter flinched slightly, clearly taken aback by the intensity of Katsuki’s reaction, but his gaze turned to you as if daring you to answer. Eijiro’s hand tightened protectively on your shoulder, his usually warm expression hardening into one of disappointment and warning.

But instead of letting either of them take the lead, you raised a hand, gently nudging Eijiro to let you handle it. Katsuki’s eyes met yours, and though still fuming, he held his tongue, trusting you to speak.

With a calm, collected expression, you leaned forward, meeting the reporter’s gaze directly. “In a world where we're risking our lives every day to protect others, where we face danger daily to keep people safe, you’d think people would care more about our hero work than our personal lives.”

The reporter blinked, clearly not expecting such a controlled but cutting response. Your voice was steady, but there was a hard edge to it, an undeniable authority.

“Our marriage is built on mutual respect, trust, and love. It’s not ‘interesting’ or some novelty—it’s our life. And we don’t need to explain the details to anyone who can’t see beyond a headline,” you continued, your tone unwavering. “If that’s all you’re focused on, then that’s a reflection on you, not us.”

Eijiro’s hand slipped down to clasp yours, giving a firm, supportive squeeze. His pride in you was clear, and Katsuki gave a sharp, approving nod. “Yeah,” he said, voice laced with a mixture of admiration and impatience. “What Angel said. Got any actual questions, or are you just here to pry into stuff that’s none of your damn business?”

The silence was thick and heavy, and the reporter shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat, mumbling some half-hearted apology as he hurriedly tried to wrap up, looking visibly thrown by your strength.

When the interview finally ended, and the lights dimmed, Eijiro pulled you into a warm hug, laughing softly. “Angel, that was amazing. You totally handled that jerk.”

Katsuki’s scowl softened as he ruffled your hair, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You shut him up better than any explosion could. Proud of you.”

You leaned into their warmth, feeling the familiar sense of security that only they could bring. “Guess we’re stronger together, huh?”

Eijiro grinned, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Always.”

[honeyjars-sims]

3.37 Soulmates

Today I’m spending some time with Pops. While I was camping, he found out that the LGBT center where he’s been working forever will be closing in just a couple weeks and he’ll be out of a job. It wasn’t unexpected–they’ve been having funding issues for a while–but it still sucks. Unfortunately, Dad is in San My for a gig this weekend, so I figure Pops could use some company.

“I’m really sorry about your job,” I tell him as he finishes washing the dishes. “Are you guys gonna be okay?”

“We have a good amount in savings, and I’ve already been in contact with someone at the LGBT center in Del Sol. They’ve all but offered me a position there that pays more and has more flexibility.”

“Wow, that’s great! So I guess you won’t have much of a reason to stay in Evergreen Harbor, then.”

“Not really. We could probably find a smaller place closer to the LGBT center.”

I know what that means. There’s no reason my parents should have to pay for another 3 bedroom house when their kids are grown. “I guess it’s time for me to find a place, too.”

“I’m sorry to spring it on you like this, but I think you’re ready for it.”

“Yeah, I am. I really appreciate you guys taking me in for as long as you did.”

“You’ve come a long way, Johnny. You’ll be just fine.”

“What about you? You’ll be all alone when Dad is traveling.”

“That’s the good thing about this job. I’ll be able to work remotely some, so I can travel with Dad sometimes.”

“Oh, that’s good then. I know it’s not easy for you two to be away from each other.” I pause. There’s something that’s been on my mind since I came back from my camping trip, and Pops seems like the perfect person to help me figure it out. “Do you think you and Dad are soulmates?”

“Soulmates? Hmm.” He stops for a moment to consider. “No, I don’t think we are,” he finishes.

“Really? Why not?” I'm taken aback by his answer. What does he mean, they're not soulmates?

“Well, you remember how Dad and I met, right?”

“Yeah, you saw each other at a protest and sparks flew or something cheesy like that.”

“Mm-hmm. But I don’t think I’ve ever told you the full story of what happened that night. Before I ended up at the protest, I was at your mom’s apartment–she told me she needed to talk to me about something. Instead, I told her I was gay and couldn’t be in a relationship with her anymore, and I left–without finding out that she was pregnant.”

“Oh. She was going to tell you that night?”

“Yes, until she decided that I wasn’t the kind of man that should raise children. If things had been different–if she had told me she was pregnant before I came out to her–I would have stayed.”

“You would’ve kept pretending to be straight?” I can't imagine what his life would have been like but it sounds pretty terrible. And to think he would have chosen that because of me and Chantal?

“For a while at least. And who knows, maybe eventually I would have found someone else to love and I’d still be happy. But I wouldn’t have met your dad that night.”

“Ok, but that didn’t happen. What does that have to do with being soulmates?”

“Because, Johnny, if I’d stayed with her a little longer then the things that happened to you and Chantal at your mom’s house wouldn’t have happened. I would have been there to keep you safe and well cared for. I just can’t believe that your Dad and I were meant to be together when the circumstances that led to us meeting were also the circumstances that led to my children being hurt and neglected.”

“Well, maybe it’s fate and you would’ve met a different way.” I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around what Pops is saying. A world where he and Dad aren't together just doesn't make sense.

“Maybe. But I don’t think any of these hypotheticals really matter. Like you said, that’s not what happened. What matters is that today, in the here and now, I can’t imagine my life without him. Any reason in particular why you’re thinking about soulmates?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly.

“I guess it’s more that I’m wondering how you know if someone is the right person for you, but it kind of sounds like it’s not that simple.”

“Well, a sign isn’t going to drop down from the heavens that says ‘This person is the one,’ but it doesn’t have to be complicated. Find the person you can’t imagine your life without. I don’t know if that’s what you were wanting to hear, but I hope it answers your question.”

Find the person you can’t live without. Maybe there aren’t signs falling from the sky, but those words are about as close as I’ll get. “It does," I tell him. "It may not be the answer I was expecting, but I think it cleared something up for me.”

“I see. Do you want to talk about it?"

Normally I would jump at the chance to get some input, but now I don't feel like I need it. I shake my head. “No, I think I can handle it from here.” The thought makes me nervous, but I can’t avoid this. I need to talk to Lacey.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[katerinaaqu]

Retellings is one thing, there's also this obsession with making the Greek Gods and Heroes as other races beside Greek. Like why the need to reimagined this Gods/Heroes like you? Why they need to have body shape/hairs/colour like you? Don't you know that these are cultural figures from the country it hail from?

Like never in my life I want to see Aphrodite looking like me or my people, I have my OWN mythology! If I want a mythology figure that show my culture and society, I just turn to my folktales. Why did the Greek mythos suddenly bear the burden to represent every single person/nation on earth?

You wanna claim that bc Greek mythology is mainstream? I think there's more nuances to it, bc no one in this world know my culture lore except the people from my own country but it doesn't stop us from appreciating our mythos and figures. And if we want to look at our own representation, we just look at our own culture. It's mind-blowing to me that these people can't do the same, and they feel the need to project their identity on another culture instead of embracing theirs.

☝️☝️☝️THIS! JUST THIS ANON!!! ☝️☝️☝️

Honestly I am not sure how is that even considered "empowering" or "representation" to swap existing characters with known background like this! Honestly if someone race swapped the amazing African Orishas to look like Greeks because "we need representations of Greeks in media" I would be insulted. I would be like "why? Ain't greek mythology important enough to create so that you need to insert my myths to African pantheon?"

And I have been called a racist for saying that! As well as other people who say the same as me too 🙄 like if you claim that "whitewashing" is so evil and erasing culture then how is it okay to do the opposite to Greeks (or even depict them as the other end of the spectrum like as if they are Norse vikings or something lol). And usually they do not use the excuse of "universality" or "mainstream" their favorite excuse is:

"There were black people in Greece and they deserve to be represented"

In other words they claim they are right and that anyone who disagrees is a bigot and a racist (the usual formula that is) and so they indeed hire literally any other kind of actors but Greeks or at least Italian and Balkan descend and they do not even make an effort to cast someone that remotely looks like the part sometimes (for example they casted The Rock to play Heracles in 2015. But at least they made an effort with makeup and the lighting of the film to make him remotely look like the part and the casting didn't appear bad or out of place to the degree it is nowadays)

So for once even if that were true (and so far we do not have plenty of archeological evidence for it) they were still considered foreigners and they were not always mingling with society. Where? Athens? Where foreigners even from other GREEK cities were not allowed to live within the walls? Sparta? That didn't allow anyone in their closed society? And we have no clue what was going on in Mycenaean world. But we know ancient myths were including people that Greeks were familiar with.

But do you still wanna go with your little hypothesis that let's say an Egyptian and a Greek had a kid that is mixed? Go ahead and create an original character with an original story. Why race swap an existing one with known story. I swear once I saw someone race swap Antigone. ANTIGONE! The woman was as inbred as she couldn't be more.

Another excuse they use is the modern day Greeks that are born out of immigrants. Are they less of Greeks than I am because they are of different ethnicity? Absolutely not. They are as Greek as I am nationally. They are born in Greece educated in Greece live in Greece. Are they ethnically Greek? No. There is a difference there. And antiquity especially heroes and characters with known backgrounds being race swapped is the same as me race swapping African Orisha with the excuse that "Greeks existed in Africa" instead of me creating an original character of it

And Greeks existed in Africa. We find cities of Greeks in north Africa all the time. Even Odysseus proves this. Lotus Eaters were probably Tynisian. We have Memnon the king of Ethiopia who has an entire poem dedicated to his people in Epic Cycle called "Aithiopis". Why isn't anyone properly representing those? Why do they feel the need to race swap existing characters to achieve that? And I couldn't have said it better Anon! Suddenly greek mythology becomes responsible to represent every nation on earth...instead of focusing at the amazing nations and their stories or myths.

If again the scream bloody murder on how extremely disrespectful old Hollywood was for not representing cultures properly then why are they doing it now? And if what they do is okay thanks to their excuse then why do they scream bloody murder for old Hollywood?

Which is it?

[bansheeoftheforest]

more thoughts! this time even more loose points that is mostly about Anubis' stay at camp half-blood

Also! Everyone is very welcome to add onto this, send questions/suggestions for the au, etc! :D I also do have the urge to turn this into a fic but that is quite unlikely since i haven't read any of the books since i was. 12 (Same as before, eventual updates will be found in the reblogs until I come up with a good AU tag!)

I know that realistically, this lil au would follow the plots of the book(s) but I also cannot for the life of me remember more about the third book other than "demigods find the hades kids and then Bianca dies" so at this point this is just me throwing out whatever feels nice between my brain wrinkles.

You know who would have been the first one to figure out that Anubis is an egyptian god? Rachel, but she doesn't show up properly until multiple books later, at which point he definitely would have been revealed. She could have taken one look at him and notice that he is both a god and definitely not (entirely) greek, and then promptly pull him aside and demand answers. I think she would agree to keep quiet about his secret but also would find some way to tease him about it.

It could possibly be Annabeth that figures him out first but I also do not really think she would have any reason to suspect that he is an non-greek god, just perhaps not entirely human/demigod-y. The more time Annabeth spends trying solve whatever tf is up with Anubis, the more happy he is that there are no demigods of Thoth.

I also assume Hades kids don't typically end up at the camp since there is no Hades cabin and all, which means that Chiron and Dionysos either A) have absolutely 0 idea why Anubis came along with the other demigods, or B) they do know what he have been up to, but decide he isn't enough of a threat to have to be dealt with.

(I HC that Anubis is very charming and respectful to elder/higher ranking gods, so I could imagine that Dionysos was sceptical until Anubis like. Bowed and greeted him with "Lord Dionysos" and shit, to which he was totally on board with letting him stay at the camp).

Since the "claim your damn kids and pay your child support" oath isn't taken until the last book, I don't think Hades would claim any of the siblings until like. He has threatened both Zeus and Poseidon to the point of compliance, if even then, so Anubis kinda has to balance not being suspicious, not seeming like he knows to much, making sure the kids' death abilities don't go haywire, and also reassuring them that no, their godly parent doesn't hate them, they (the gods in general) are just weird.

I am very inbetween no one suspecting anything weird with any of the siblings, or the campers thinking Anubis specifically is just really uncanny for some reason. Like, first of all, he claims to be a 16 year old demigod, which is rare in itself and especially so with no prior contact to Camp Half-Blood, and secondly, he probably hates lying outright bc of his whole work with Maat so like every other sentence sounds like he is hiding something because he has to lie but he doesn't want to, and he also probably doesn't really know how. Not to even mention the fact that he is the most intimidating out of these 70+ year old siblings in the first place.

NGL, I think he would try to keep Bianca from joining the hunters of Artemis, only because. Well. she is 12 and has absolutely 0 training in her godly powers or weaponry/fighting at all. Whether or not he is successful in convincing her to join the lesbian commune when she is older is an entirely different story. But hey, if she does and she still dies, he can feel really guilty about it!

No matter if it is PJO or actual mythology, I am always convinced Anubis and Hermes are really good friends, so I do find it funny to imagine Anubis having to bunk with the children of one of his best friends or exes. Although I think out of all the demigods (other than Nico and Bianca) he would like the Hermes kids most.

Anubis would still put most of his focus on the siblings/Nico, but I also feel like Dionysos and Chiron would still tell him that, if he is going to stay at the camp with the Di Angelos, he has to do what the campers does and follow their schedules. Imagine being an egyptian god of death and funerals but now you are a babysitter doing arts and crafts or playing capture the flag with like. Children.

I also quite like the thought of like. How Anubis would be found out. Did Bianca and Nico get suspicious when he keeps disappearing to talk privately to Chiron/Mr. D/Hades? Do they assume he knows something because, before CHB, he claimed to know quite a lot about their father's "testament"? Do the other campers just get really really suspicious? Did he do the classic folly of "I have to play fighting games with children and while I am good, I am not that good and oh shit they see that my blood is quite literally liquid gold. Whoops."? Is he forced to reveal the truth on Hades' orders, or because he has to deal with whatever the fuck is going on with the egyptian pantheon? Or did Annabeth simply figure out what he is and confront him about it?

(Honestly there could be a big chance he just got really fucking tired, stayed in his jackal-form for a while, and Annabeth decided the only reason a black jackal would be at camp could be an egyptian god infiltrating said camp, and technically she is right).

I also do like, in the very small chance that Hades decides to claim his kids, since Zeus and Poseidon know he would murder the fuck out of what is left of their children if they tried to hurt them, he also claims Anubis to keep up appearances for the time being. Like eventually the entire "I got the egyptian god of death to babysit my kids" thing turned into "well, I guess I am fighting for custody over the egyptian god of death".

With the above point, I do love Anubis being super duper confused about it because THAT was definitely not part of the plan. And it is not like he can explain to anyone why he is so confused when some might already have assumed he knew who their godly parent was.

Honestly the thought of Anubis doing the equivalent of attending kindergarten to keep the Di Angelo siblings safe is quite funny to me.

Still refusing to reread PJO/TKC but it is still infesting my brain so woe crossover au be upon yall

Au where Anubis casually gets assigned to be Bianca's and Nico's older brother, anyone?

(messy points below, mostly from Anubis' pov coz he is my pookie)

Like, once the other Egyptian gods start dropping like flies because the magicians are imprisoning them, assuming they may also go after Anubis, he turns to Hades as a very very very last resort because, well, he would like to not be imprisoned for all eternity, thank you very much. Hades agrees on the condition that Anubis looks after his demigods, since he otherwise really isn't to any use of him, which Anubis accepts. So, Anubis is basically the Hades/Pluto demigods' divine babysitter in exchange for some protection from the magicians who may or may not also want to imprison him.

I shall say that this either works bc A) Hades kids radiate enough death so that he can be around them without a host or B) it is all just bureaucracy so when the rest of the Egyptian gods are gone those rules simply do not really apply.

Anyways, once the Big Three ProphecyTM rolls around and Maria Di Angelo kicks the bucket, Anubis is left in charge of making sure the Di Angelo siblings survive, taking them to and staying with them at the Lotus Casino and the different schools that Hades moves them around to, either as their "older brother"/guardian or as their pet dog that the authorities simply don't bat an eye at.

The siblings, with their memories absolutely fucked up, simply accepts that they either have a brother, a dog, an older brother who is occasionally a dog, or a dog that only conveniently shows up when their brother isn't there and vice versa.

And since I haven't read any RR books since I was 12 and I never read the HOO series, I can't really talk much about the logistics from here on out but. I have some thoughts in general.

Anubis makes sure that he takes the majority of the responsibilities, so that Bianca can be a little more happy and a little less stressed than she would have been if she was alone looking after her little brother.

He also happily distracts Nico when Bianca needs a break, he can genuinely listen to Nico ramble about whatever for hours, remembers it quite well and can return the conversation, which Bianca rarely has energy for.

(He was the exact same when he was young and wants to make sure Nico has someone that listens to him)

Genuinely cannot rest until he makes sure the siblings are fine and safe, which becomes a bit of a problem when Bianca goes on her first and last quest, and even more of a problem when he is more stuck in the Brooklyn House and he has to keep contacting Nico before he allows himself or Walt to rest as a result of that.

He is so so so so SO protective of the siblings. He is absolutely ready to die or kill for them. He is not a fighter, more often than not a pacifist, but when it comes to them he is the first to throw hands.

Also him absolutely being ready to kill the demigods that find the siblings at the military school coz he is so used to the "any demigod or magician is here to kill one of us and I have to protect them at all costs" mode that he has been kinda stuck in for the last 70 or so years, minimum.

He is merely an older sibling running on the equivalent of 3 hours of sleep and 2 strong coffees, which really doesn't help the situation once shit starts going down in Brooklyn/the Egyptian pantheon.

Speaking of the Brooklyn House. After being a Divine BabysitterTM for like 2000 years he genuinely cannot get rid of those base instincts, which ends up with him fussing over the Kanes/Walt/Zia and the rest of the initiates because those are CHILDREN and they need to REST and be SAFE and EAT PROPERLY and TAKE YOUR DAMN VITAMINES, WALT.

Because of those 2000 years of babysitting, Anubis is genuinely amazing with kids. You'd think they'd be scared by him, but no. He is the first one they run to when they scraped their knee and need a band aid and a hug.

He also 100% stares right into Percy's and Will's souls the moment he finds out Nico has/had crushes on them. Despite being raised in an entirely different time he definitely is a "no dating until you are at least 25 otherwise I might have a heart attack" sibling and he is not letting some random demigod break his lil brother's heart. He accepts Will well enough though coz he makes Nico laugh which in the end is the most important thing.

Will might actually be more intimidated by Anubis than Hades but that doesn't stop him. Nico is his babygirl and he knows Anubis is (probably) more bark than bite (most of the time).

No matter if Hades allows him to like. stop being a babysitter once the gods are restored and Ma'at is balanced and all, Anubis still sticks around and checks in on Nico (and eventually Hazel). He gets antsy if he hasn't heard from them at least once a day.

He probably has a good base relationship with Jason and Reyna (bc both are protective older siblings when it comes to Nico) but he keeps Percy at a distance ever since Bianca's death (not that he blames him). But he isn't particularly close to any of them, as his priorities lay with Nico, Hazel, and the Brooklyn House.

Assuming Anubis doesn't like. Introduce himself to the greeks as "Anubis" and instead says he is someone else, I have absolutely no idea when or if he would ever tell any of the greek demigods what he truly is. But I suppose Nico would eventually find out that his older brother actually isn't related to him at all, or even from the greek pantheon, and instead only happened to become his older brother as a favour to Hades. Depending on how he finds out he definitely could get upset but I like to believe he sorta figures eventually, and is just happy Anubis genuinely cares for him.

I also like to think that the greek gods they meet when the demigods take the siblings from the school to camp half-blood, just gives Anubis A LookTM. Either they are fully aware he is protecting the Hades kids or they think an Egyptian god is just casually hanging out with some random demigods. Which must certainly be a sight to behold.

Can yall for a moment imagine being the Kane siblings, trying to get the feather of truth from the god of death to avoid the impending apocalypse, who then says "sorry I am mostly on babysitting duty so I can't really help yall more than this, good luck tho."

Walt who meets Nico and is so conflicted because in one way he is slightly weirded out by this tiny depressed gremlin, but in another way the Anubis PartTM of him is just going "protect protect protect protect", which is a weird first impression.

One of the Kane siblings would be interested in Mythomagic, I just know it. Either Sadie coz it is funky or Carter bc it is nerdy. Either way, Nico has at least one Kane to bond with bc of it.

Nico just has the ultimate diplomatic immunity because he can go between Camp Half-blood, Camp Jupiter, and the Brooklyn House basically as he pleases.

On a completely different topic, the majority of Nico's wardrobe is just shit he has stolen from Anubis, he just lets it happen, in part because it is not like he as a god has a limited wardrobe, and in part bc Nico is absolutely adorable when he drowns in Anubis' jackets bc they are too big for him.

Also, Anubis helping Nico train his death magic, and teaching him the easiest ways to build endurance while using it.

Frankly the thought of the rest of the gods being banished, imprisoned, in exile or attempting to free themselves while Anubis is playing babysitter is very funny to me in general. Imagine being Isis or Osiris and attempting to ask your nephew/son what he did during the 2000 years yall were imprisoned and he goes "I took a side job as a babysitter to pay the bills".

Honestly I might reblog this with more thoughts eventually. They are all just so pookie.

[thatrandombystander]

Day 3 of I Am So Fucking Stressed.

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[electricmaimer]

"i dont care if people who havent read the books get spoiled for the show" <- words of a person i now want to bite and yell at